


Soft Sounds From Another Planet.

by rorybutnotgilmore



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Tragedy, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Character Death, Death, Depression, F/M, Gen, Graphic Description, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), References to Depression, Sad, no y/n, no yn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-26 01:13:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30098016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rorybutnotgilmore/pseuds/rorybutnotgilmore
Summary: You survived when everyone was dusted, and it’s been years. Loki wasn’t dusted though. He’s dead, and your alive, left mourning, unable to stop and move on with your life.
Relationships: Loki (Marvel) & Reader, Loki (Marvel)/Reader
Comments: 8
Kudos: 24





	Soft Sounds From Another Planet.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in June or July 2020, and found it while cleaning out my docs. I decided I liked it and wanted to edit it so I could post it. I was obsessed with euphoria at the time.
> 
> (written and edited on an iphone so there could be minor errors. oh, and it’s 2am, but i did edit it many times)
> 
> Beware of angst beyond this point.

Gasping, you sit up, desperately reaching into the darkness for the place Loki stood only moments prior.

_It was a dream._

You clutch the sheets to your chest and scan your eyes around the room, grasping onto the shard of hope that maybe he _is_ here somewhere. The moonlight that seeps through the window makes the room appear violet, eerily illuminating the space as you search for your lover.

 _But he hasn’t been here in years_. The dreams and nightmares just keep repeating. 

You break into sobs, clutching the sheet close. They're the same sheets he used to lay under, with you. Pressing your nose into the sheet, you close your eyes and try to recognize a trace of his scent in an attempt to feel closer to him. You long to smell the unique and comforting smell of him, and to shiver as his cold hands slip under your shirt, feeling the warm skin contrasting against his cold skin.

But it’s all gone. _He's gone._

Now you can barely remember how he smelled, and the only thing you have left is a couple of shirts and a hoodie that hold it, but even those are fading.

You cry into the darkness for what feels like hours, a cycle of what happens every night; Wake up and cry. It's an endless loop, and it’s suffocating. Time seems to collapse as you find your days blending together. _Everything sinks._

You had told yourself that you’d never forget it, but you've somehow managed to forget how he sounds. The rich, smoothness of his voice— you'd do anything to hear it again.

It’s said that the sound of someone’s voice is the first thing to fade from your memory after they leave. You suppose it’s true. Thankfully his face still remains ingrained in your mind, the photographs littered throughout your home helping.

You turn and glance over to what would have been his side of the bed. His helm stays there, somehow consoling you. You pick it up to gently run your fingers along its intricate markings. Holding it against your forehead, you smile sadly, _longingly_ , at any memories that flicker back to you for a moment.

Your head turns to gaze out the window at the purple haze.

Maybe he’s out there. If he is, can he see you? Hear you? _Does he remember you?_

Your ring, containing a lovely emerald, glimmers in the moonlight, catching your attention. _You were supposed to marry him._

As you lay back down, hugging the headpiece to your chest when you stare up at the ceiling, the violet moonlight illuminates half of your face, the other submerged in the darkness of the room. It's similar to how you feel; Consumed by sorrow and melancholy with the faintest light. A faint, murky light, like the violet moonlight.

You know that you should have known better than to bite the hand that fed you, but you did it anyway and now it’s been taken away.

 _His eyes._ Loki's eyes held power and determination, but were clouded with _rejection_ , _fear,_ _loss_ , _desperation_ , _horror_ , _lies_ , _pain_ , and so many more emotions.

His eyes alone had been enough to send someone as unknowing as yourself spiralling into madness. They’d seen so much.

_They were supposed to see more._

Suddenly, you gasp, your mind going into shock at the realization that he’s dead, floating in space somewhere, his emerald eyes blank and unseeing in the vacuum. This isn’t a new realization, you just manage to erase it from your memory every night, a reasonable response to trauma, leaving the realization to become even more horrific the next time you remember it. 

You feel as if you searched for something like him for an entire lifetime, or at least, for as long as you can remember. You yearned for that endless feeling of being loved by someone who wasn’t obligated to love you, but did by choice. Someone who _chose_ _you_ for a reason. 

Trying to return to the present time and to calm down again, you focus on your breathing. However, every time you focus too hard, you only seem to suffocate further. You end up gasping and panicking, sitting up desperately. 

And when you see it, the world goes dark and suddenly nothing matters except the person standing in front of you.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are greatly appreciated :)


End file.
